Lemonheads
by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue
Summary: Ciel has a secret admirer. This is a Very Bad Thing.


_Title:_ Lemonheads

_Author:_ Neko-chan

_Fandom:_ Kuroshitsuji

_Rating:_ T

_Pairing:_ It's a surprise~ ;D

_Summary:_ Ciel has a secret admirer. This is a Very Bad Thing.

_Author's Note:_ I was debating whether or not I should write this, especially since mid-terms are on the horizon and I should be studying for Voodoo and Old English… D: But… that's boring! So I'll write fanfiction instead. :D Anyway, this is another ficlet that came into being after more late-night discussions with mhikaru~ What can I say? She helps give me horrible, horrible ideas. And then approves of them. –halo- This is also for BlackButler(dot)net's "love confessions" prompt on the Thursday Crack Ficlets thread. –snerk- Title references to one of my favorite candies. :3

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**Lemonheads**

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It was a series of unfortunate events:

Ciel knew that it was going to be a horrid day not long after Sebastian entered the master suite to awaken the boy for the scheduled activities. It had—at first—seemed as if it would be like any other and every day: the Earl Grey tea was, as always, perfectly steeped by the demon; the scones had bits of dark chocolate baked into them to add an element of sweetness to the small meal, and Ciel contentedly let that sweetness melt against the tip of his tongue while he waited for Sebastian to fetch him his shoes.

Of course, that was when things began to go downhill.

Instead of kneeling before the edge of the bed so that he might take each of Ciel's legs in hand to ease the heeled shoes on for a snug, comfortable fit, the butler stood before his master. Never saying a word, Sebastian waited for Ciel to give the demon his complete attention.

Once given, the demon looked his contractor up and down, quirking an eyebrow when Ciel's expression shifted to being irritated at Sebastian's interruption and his almost lazy perusal. In answer to that scowling gaze, the butler's eyebrow rose just a bit higher as he tilted one of Ciel's shoes upside down... and large, hairy spiders tumbled out.

That was, unfortunately, just the beginning.

. . .

When the Phantomhive heir retreated to his study later on that morning, he discovered that his favorite sanctuary had been put in disarray by an unhappy whirlwind deciding to touch down in the normally pristine room to leave behind its very blatant mark: papers were strewn about carelessly, folders open and spread throughout the room, books tumbled down from their cases, and his ink pots tilted over so that the ink slowly drip-drip-dripped its way over the edge of his father's mahogany desk. To add insult to injury, commentary had been written in loopy, childish handwriting on the proposals for all of the new Funtom merchandise, those very same comments sardonic and acerbic both.

Ciel could only look out over the disaster area, gaze slowly going red as he tried his best to keep his fury under control. It only worked to a certain point, however, for a shout very soon after echoed through the elegant manor:

"_Sebastian!_"

. . .

However, the problems refused to stop there.

Later on that evening, Sebastian and Ciel returned to his bedroom so that he could change clothes in preparation for the dinner that he would be having at the Middleford estate. Aunt Frances would be expecting the best from her nephew—and, more importantly, _her own daughter's fiancé_—and Ciel knew that to show up with anything less than perfection would elicit immediate criticism.

Despite the high levels of performance that he expected himself, Ciel did have to admit that when Sebastian opened the doors to his wardrobe to reveal nothing but tattered shreds of his hand-tailored suits, he couldn't make himself feel surprise. In a way, considering how everything else was progressive, it had been honestly expected.

However, the fact that the pink ballgown that he had worn to Count Druitt's party had remained untouched made the young Earl flush with restrained emotion, blue eyes sparking in anger at the challenge and the unsolicited advice that this _perpetrator_ had given. The insult given… it was beyond belief and it stung at the noble's chilled, British pride—it demanded retribution. The only issue came with the knowledge that Ciel didn't know _who_ it was that he needed to challenge.

Teeth clenched, Ciel glanced up at his butler and managed to grit out, "Notify Nina Hopkins that I'll be needing a new wardrobe immediately."

Sebastian couldn't hide the smirk that tugged the corners of his lips upwards, but at least he gave a semblance of acquiescence by inclining his head in a short bow with his hand pressed over his heart. "Yes, my lord."

. . .

There hadn't been any incidents in three days.

But Ciel knew better than to press his luck. He was strained and stressed, always constantly on edge as he kept a lookout for who it was that had decided to muck up his life; he wouldn't forget the insults, wouldn't forget the audacity of the other person in the very evidence provided that they had had no compunction in coming into _his home_ _to ruin his things_. And of course the smarmy demon bastard refused to help—just watched Ciel's proceedings with an amused, knowledgeable glint in his gaze. And didn't say anything.

Rubbing tiredly at his eyes, Ciel allowed his hands to drop when he heard the door to the study push open. Glancing up, he met those bloody bemused eyes, scowling darkly at the demon despite the fact that Sebastian had brought in a new sweet for tea time as a peace offering.

"Who left their calling cards and invitations for upcoming events?" the boy eventually asked, sighing tiredly as he reached out to take the bribe that the butler had cooked earlier that day. He couldn't muster up the dread, however, when Sebastian glanced at him with a sly smile.

The silver platter that the demon usually presented to Ciel and was always, _always_ covered in cream vellum—calling cards left by visitors, invitations to balls, notes suggesting galas that Ciel might hopefully attend, proposals sent from potential business partners: the vellum was gone and was instead replaced by a pile of ash.

"…of course," Ciel said, figuring that that had been inevitable.

. . .

The pranks, however, refused to end there:

Ciel woke up one morning with "World's Biggest Bloody Bastard" written in that writing filled with curly-cues, the words scrawled haphazardly across his forehead. It had been almost impossible to remove, even with Sebastian's help, and the Earl ended up missing a Funtom Company board meeting because of it.

During dinner one evening, a carrier had arrived with a parcel for Ciel. Opening the box that he had been given, several cats had promptly leaped towards their freedom—knocking over the dinnerware set over the table and setting off a sneezing fit for Ciel. It went without saying that he had immediately ordered Sebastian and the Idiot Trio to round the felines up to toss outside, easily ignoring the enamored looks Sebastian gave to the cats—the jealousy easily held at bay considering the extreme levels of irritation that Ciel was currently feeling.

Another time, Ciel had found out (belatedly, unfortunately) that the prankster had added bleach to his shampoo. It had taken several days before Ciel had been willing to venture out in public once more, and that was only due to Sebastian's knowledge of various dyes—and his ability to use that knowledge to recolor Ciel's hair.

By this time, however, the boy was seething in constant rage.

The rage had only intensified when Ciel came across a horribly written love poem written in capital letters to (attempt to) disguise the identity of the writer—to attempt to disguise the fact that the perpetrating bastard and his "secret admirer" were one and the same. The Earl ended up taking great pleasure in shredding the poem—despite being written over new Funtom business expansion suggestions—into exceptionally small shreds before lighting each piece one by one with a candle's flame.

The next item that the person sent through carrier ended up being a chocolate cake—one that Ciel ended up having an allergic reaction to (or had been baked with some sort of poison; it was rather hard to remember the details when Ciel had been more concerned with the fact that he _couldn't breathe_) and forced the boy to be bedridden for several days even through the protests that he had given.

The last straw occurred when Ciel went out hunting with Aunt Frances. He had been itching to try the black hunter that Sebastian had gotten for him the month before, and since there had been an overabundance of deer on his estate, Ciel had invited the Marchioness over for some sport. All had been going well up until the point where Ciel had urged the thoroughbred to jump over a hedge, the girth strap—cut nearly completely through and hidden neatly beneath the saddle flap—snapped and Ciel went tumbling down into the muddy field to join the pigs that made it their home.

The Earl stared down at his now-dirty hands for a moment or two before pushing himself up to make his way towards his butler, Sebastian standing on dry ground. The demon's smirk was most assuredly not present on his face, though Ciel could easily see the dark amusement that lay within Sebastian's gaze. Whistling the boy's horse over once more, Sebastian tossed the ruined saddle over a shoulder before helping Ciel up so that the boy might be able to ride bareback, then guiding the horse back to the manor with a slight bow towards the Marchioness.

"Starting tomorrow, we're going to track down the person who has this stupid vendetta against me," eventually came the terse command.

Sebastian's amusement just deepened further, hiding it by gently patting the horse on the neck. "Vendetta, bocchan? I think not. From years of observing you mortals, this seems more like the bullying that a very young boy will do when trying to tell a young girl that he likes her."

"…_what?_"

No longer able to contain himself, Sebastian chuckled, glancing over at Ciel from the corner of his gaze, expression sly and oh-so very entertained as he finally offered his own form of "suggestion" for the not-yet-adult Phantomhive: "Ah~ Perhaps I should advise the kumoshitsuji to encourage Alois Trancy to change his tactics, emotionally and developmentally stunted though they already are."

**End.**


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